Intertwined
by Esmooria
Summary: CU. How one girl brings two fighting brothers together, redemption to herself, and peace to her father. OC Pairing. Rated T for some violence.
1. Prologue: The Birth of Something New

**A/N:** Welcome to Intertwined. For those new readers: the prequel to this story is _Twisted Fate_, though it is not necessary that you read it to understand this story. (But I am not opposed to you all reading it, trust me!) The prologue to _this_ story, happens to be the epilogue to _Twisted Fate_, so there may be a few lines that are in conjunction with that story.

This takes place after the sealing of Inuyasha and death of Kikyou, so the jewel is no longer here and yet to return. The entire story will consist of three arcs; this first arc will be about 12 chapters (not including this prologue) which deals mainly with my original character and Naraku. The second arc will deal with my OC and Sesshoumaru, and the third with my OC and Inuyasha. It will span over 50 years, and after rewriting the outline (since I lost my old one) it should be _about_ 50 chapters. My hope is to update this story on Sundays and Wednesdays, but depending on how my schedule is, I might have to change it to once a week.

Much thanks to **Yuki-Yasha Higurashi** for the reminder that none of _Intertwined_ was yet posted. :) She helped me get the ball rolling, and it's thanks to her that I rewrote the outline - and wrote chapter 1 already. :)

**Word Count: **1000

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**Prologue: The Birth of Something New**

The jewel was gone, but his lust remained. There were so many new feelings raging inside of him, impulses warring against sense as he looked for a new purpose. His plan to take the tainted jewel had backfired when Kikyou had it burned with her body, the jewel remaining _pure_. He had no hopes of ever finding the jewel again—so he needed amusement.

Dark eyes nearly sparkled at the sight of her: dark hair, bright eyes, and an aura nearly as dark as his own.

In an instant, he appeared in front of her—no trickery, no illusion—just he, himself. With a smirk that made her shiver, he took her hand. The possessiveness in his grasp didn't turn her off from him, but quite the opposite—she knew she had to have him, just as he had to have her.

"Your name?" It was the first thing he said to her, and they were both already intrigued: she with his power, and he with the fact that she looked strikingly like Kikyou, save her bright, blue eyes.

"Sekeida. And you?"

"Naraku." His voice was smooth and inviting, and instead of resisting it, she pulled him closer to her, welcoming his intentions fully.

"Enchanted."

Dark energy crackled against his skin, burning it slightly, and he loved every minute of it. It satisfied something within his soul, however brief, and though he wouldn't fool himself into thinking he loved the dark miko, he knew he would keep her around for awhile.

* * *

"Lying again, I see," Naraku seethed as his eyes bore into the dark miko's back, as if he was trying to kill her with his gaze alone. He was beyond furious—a feeling that was only fueled when her only answer was to turn to look at him and smirk.

"You do not own me, Naraku." Her voice was calm, though her heart jumped slightly when his eyes fell on her bulging belly. Nine months had passed since their first meeting, and Naraku had highly regretted falling into the impulse that was Sekeida.

"Not _you_, perhaps. But the child is _mine_."

"Never!"

This time, it was Naraku who smirked, and it sent a shiver down her spine—_this_ time, for a different reason. She, too, regretted falling into her impulse with him; her amusement with him had barely lasted beyond the night. But she wasn't going to allow her baby to grow up fatherless—and, unfortunately, the child _was_ undoubtedly fathered by him.

"You have been nothing but lies since we met; you owe me at least _this_." Finding out that Sekeida was _actually_ a hanyou in addition to being a dark miko had just been the first of many surprises—one he had discovered on the morning they had awoken.

He still couldn't say that he loved her—or that he _ever_ loved her—but he was supposed to be the manipulative one, and he wouldn't stand for her lies any longer. As soon as that baby was born, he was killing her—and Sekeida knew that.

"Fine. You want the truth?" Naraku gave a single nod, though he already knew what she was going to say. "I have not been faithful to you. _Ever_. But I never claimed I would be. You being the father of my child does _not_ make you my mate." She lifted her chin, pushing her shoulders back, managing to look more dignified than ever. "I take no one as my mate; it has _always_ been so."

Naraku's youki flared. Just because he had never loved her didn't mean he would stand for being disrespected in such a blatant way. She showed no remorse for her actions, but he would make her _feel_ remorse, even if it came in her death.

Dark eyes rested on her stomach once more, and the smirk that had so enchanted her at first returned, only managing to disgust her further.

"The baby is _mine_," he repeated, his voice colder than she'd ever heard it before.

* * *

After hours of labor, Naraku was growing impatient. He, of course, expected her to deliver the baby on her own—after how she had treated him, she hadn't deserved any help. He let a growl rip through his throat as he entered her bedchamber, arms crossed as he stared at the pain-stricken dark miko in front of him. It just so happened that the birth of their child was occurring on the night she was human, which was probably making the birth more painful for her, much to his pleasure.

"Are you almost done?"

Sekeida shot a glare that could've spelled his death if she had been able to attack, but simply gave a nod. "I get to choose the name," she declared, and Naraku didn't see much importance in arguing with her. The name wasn't what was important, anyway—it didn't affect how he would get to raise the child.

The time seemed to stretch on for eternity, when finally a sharp cry pierced his ears. His eyes widened slightly as he saw the head…of his _daughter_.

Sekeida's breathing grew sharp, and Naraku could smell death on her. He wouldn't have to do much to end her life, he decided—this birth was taking its toll on her well enough. But when the baby was completely born, Sekeida smirked at him.

"Her name is Mitsuko." Her voice was quiet, and though she despised the man who was her father, it was evident that she loved her little girl. She sent one last glare in his direction, coupled with a smirk, and her final words nearly sent a chill down Naraku's spine. "She will be your curse," she promised—just as Naraku pierced her heart, killing her instantly.

He took the little girl in his arms, and Onigumo's heart beat in protest within him when Naraku promised himself he did not—would not—love her. He would never love _anything_.

"Mitsuko," he murmured, rolling his eyes at the name.

_Mitsuko…child of light._

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**End Note:** And so, a new story begins. I know for those of you who read _Twisted Fate_ are going to be like.. "What the heck, I've read this before!" But, no harm in a little reminder for what this story will be about? ::wishful thinking:: Anywho, for _new_ readers - any reviews and feedback would be _wonderful_!


	2. Sealed

**A/N:** As promised! The first few chapters might be a little slow, admittedly, but there will hopefully be some Naraku-baby humor laced throughout. Then, once Mitsuko is older-the story will pick up, I promise! There will be a few characters getting some play in this as well, such as Miroku's grandfather and a younger Kaede. And, of course, Naraku will be the main canon character in focus for awhile-for the first arc. :)

Please, do enjoy!

**Word Count:** 605

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**Sealed**

_That incessant noise has got to stop!_ Dark eyes turned to glare at the small baby, whose crying had been seemingly endless since her birth. He'd fed and changed her, even giving her a comfortable place to sleep—and yet, the crying just wouldn't stop!

His glare continued at the attention-starved baby who couldn't even comprehend what it meant. "Mitsuko," he tried, though she didn't comprehend; the crying only increased. _What did that fool Onigumo do with his sister?_ He wracked his brain and could come up with only one thing.

With a sigh, he walked the length of the room, scooping her out of the crib and beginning to rock her.

The crying instantly stopped.

Naraku couldn't help but marvel at this new development—and then scowl. Hanyou aged faster than youkai, but slower than humans—and he knew he could _not_ deal with having a small child around for that much of his life. He hadn't found a purpose yet, but he was certain his purpose was _not_ to babysit his child.

She was going to grow up to help him in his endeavors. But how long could he afford to wait?

Suddenly, he smirked; he wouldn't _have_ to wait that long. He moved to set down the now-quiet child, but at her whimper he sighed, waiting for her to fall asleep before placing her back in the crib. Fatherhood was not for him, but if he was lucky, he wouldn't have to deal with it for that long.

Strolling over to pile of scrolls Sekeida had insisted on bringing, he shuffled through them until he found one on sealing demonic abilities.

"If I seal her abilities…she should age as a human," he concluded finally. "Though, she will certainly be more fragile—I may have to care for her more than desirable," he murmured, unaware that he was speaking aloud to himself. But, the great service she'd be doing for him once she was able would more than make up for the years he would spend caring for her. And he could easily remove the seal, and she'd get her powers back—and then, he would send her to do his dirty work.

"Yes…it's all coming together nicely." He smirked, letting the scroll fall on the ground as he walked over to the crib again. His look was nothing but malicious as he lifted the sleeping baby up, studying her for the first time since Sekeida had died. She had one black stripe on each cheek and royal blue eyes that couldn't be seen in her sleeping state. She resembled her mother in the worst way.

Most father's hearts would melt into a pile of putty at the sight of their only daughter—but Naraku's gaze was full of calculations and detached awareness that this was his flesh and blood. _And should do as I please_.

Hours later, after the sealing spell was over, Naraku observed her again. Her marks had disappeared, as well as her tiny fangs and claws. Her scent had changed, too; she was, for all practical purposes, a human. _I will only have to deal with raising a child until she reaches maturity. The spell will be removed at eighteen_, he decided, and with that he placed Mitsuko back in her makeshift crib.

She was too young to understand what just happened. But, when Mitsuko awoke, the crying commenced; all she could comprehend was that she felt different, and it was in a bad way. Unformed thoughts left definite impressions in her mind. _And why am I all alone? Why does it feel bad when the nice man speaks?_


	3. The Big Picture

**A/N: **Well, I must say it was pretty difficult getting this chapter up on time. I only just finished it a few minutes ago; I have to say I had writer's block for this chapter. I didn't want to jump from her being sealed to her being unsealed-I have a few things that I wanted to get in before then-and I wanted some Naraku-baby interaction. I wouldn't call this a filler chapter, but it's definitely lighter than the chapters to come.

I will admit, this chapter is a small attempt at humor on my part. I don't think I'm that good at humor, particularly-but hey, maybe I'm just my own worst critic? :)

**Word Count:** 965

Please, enjoy this little bit of light-heartedness. :)

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The Big Picture**

"Dad-_dy_!" Naraku couldn't help the sigh that passed his lips as soon as he felt two little arms circle around his legs. When he looked down, the big blue eyes that were staring up at him widely would have almost been comical—if the child had not been so _annoying._

The gentle tug continued; the child was pulling at his hakama relentlessly. Finally, he resigned to look down at her, raising a brow in what could only be described as disdain. "_Yes_, Mitsuko?"

The three year-old giggled at the sound of her own name before she released her father's leg and began clapping her hands without any rhythm. "Daddy Daddy Daddy!" Naraku rolled his eyes before picking her up, and she quieted instantly—content in her father's embrace while he was _dis_content to hold her.

"Children are so bothersome," he murmured to no one in particular, sighing before sitting down, cross-legged and leaning against the wall. It had been the longest three years of his life. Wasn't time supposed to seem to go more _quickly_ now that he was a demon? He supposed most parents probably felt like their children grew up too quickly; _he_, on the other hand, felt like time was absolutely crawling.

The beginning had been the toughest. All she had done was cry and sleep, and cry and sleep…and eat and poop and puke and anything else Naraku could think of that was negative…or smelly. He'd absolutely despised the intense amount of care required to keep the child alive—and on more than one occasion he had been tempted to just let her starve to death.

Any time he had even thought that, the baby's cries seemed to get louder, and the only thing he could think of was that he couldn't stand the sound long enough to _let_ her die. So he'd been reduced to giving her care—and attention. Though, he was absolutely sure he was only giving her as much as she needed to survive. And he was absolutely _positive_ that the baby was not growing on him. Nope, not at all.

It had gotten slightly less irritating when she gained the ability to put everything in her mouth—_finally_, he didn't have to actually feed her himself. But that was when she started putting _everything_ in her mouth: dirt, wood, rocks, fabric, paper, his hair—and anything else that would even remotely fit. He hadn't minded it so much when it was something amusing—the look on her face when she'd first tasted the dirt (and promptly spit it out) was simply priceless, though it hadn't stopped her from doing it again (and again)—but when he'd discovered one of his elaborate plans for revenge torn up, slobbered on, and half missing, he was not _nearly_ as amused. After that, he decided that even though she could eat—and crawl—he was going to have to keep a closer eye on her.

And when she _could_ crawl, she'd decided she would crawl _everywhere_. That in itself hadn't bothered him much—at least he wouldn't need to take her places—but when she wandered out of his hideout and into the woods, that, too, had become bothersome. He didn't want to have to explain why there was a baby in the woods by herself—or risk people finding her and trying to look for her parents, and then discovering him. Bloodshed wasn't something he was opposed to, of course, but he had much bigger fish to fry.

And then had come the terrible twos—a phrase Naraku so cleverly came up with himself after dealing with Mitsuko for basically the entire year after her second birthday. It was when she had finally learned the meaning of temper tantrums—and that, if she yelled and screamed and cried and begged enough—she could even get _Naraku_ to give in. She'd only grown out of _that_ when Naraku started ignoring her and stopped giving her what she wanted. Unfortunately, this meant about a month of Naraku wishing he could just drown the child and get it over with—but then, what would happen to his plan of being able to use her when she was finally old enough to be useful? He would keep her alive for this purpose—not because he actually cared for the girl. That _certainly_ wasn't the case.

A sudden pang brought him out of his quiet melancholy, and dark eyes narrowed in the direction of his daughter. She had hold of his hair, and she was pulling on it none-too-gently. The squeal of laughter passing her lips only served to tick him off _more_, and he let a growl erupt before he took his free hand to pry her away from the delicate strands of hair.

"You will _not_ do that again," he commanded sternly, finding no amusement in her child's play. When she lowered her hands with a pout, he assumed she'd gotten the message, and he allowed himself to cradle her again against his chest.

As the silence set in, Naraku gave a soft, nearly content hum, finding that the rumbling in his chest seemed to soothe the little child lying against him.

_This isn't too bad_, he thought to himself, memories recoiling from the 'terrible twos' stage Mitsuko had just recovered from. In comparison, Mitsuko at three years was almost—peaceful.

_Yank_.

"Mitsuko!" Naraku growled at her again, holding her up so that she was looking him directly in the eyes, giving her his fiercest glare. "I said _no_," he reiterated, unable to comprehend why _this child_ would not obey his every command.

The glare—and the words—were completely lost on Mitsuko, however. She only giggled again, her tiny hands still wrapped around the outermost strands of his hair.

_Yank. Yank._

**End Note:** I'd love to hear your all's thoughts so far! :) Reviews make me happy, and also improve my muse!


	4. Ashes, Ashes

**A/N:** Whew-I'm staying on schedule so far. Things are starting to get busy for me, though, so I might have to drop this down to once a week-but we'll see! This chapter is particularly long compared to my others. :)

**Please enjoy!**

**Word Count:** 2,417

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**Ashes, Ashes**

The sight before Naraku was a strange one indeed. Purification clung to his skin as he entered the damp cave, dark eyes widening at the sight of so much ash around him. His horde of usual demons lurking in the shadows were gone—purified—and he found himself ignoring the fact that his first thought consisted of where Mitsuko was, _not_ what had happened to his many youkai. They _were_ dispensable, after all, where his own flesh and blood was not—that was the only reason he was concerned.

Finally he saw her, huddling in the darkest curve of the cave. Her knees were pulled to her chest and she was hugging her legs, her face buried in the space between her knees. Her dark hair was cascading over her legs, her arms—well, her entire body, and he could tell from the faint scent of tears that she had been crying. He didn't have a nose like an inu-youkai—but he _could_ smell some of the more obvious things.

"Mitsuko." His voice was quiet, almost soothing—but she didn't move, save the small shaking that started at the sound of her father's entrance. He let out a sigh, crossing the length of the cave and kneeling down beside her. "Mitsuko," he repeated quietly, "tell me what happened."

She rose her head shakily, her face red and blotchy from her tears. "I-I'm sorry," she whispered, and the shaking increased. "I didn't mean to! They…they were coming in on me…they were going to hurt me, I don't know how I knew! And then…there was light…and I knew I had done something bad…" the little five year old girl explained with surprising articulacy. She then put her head back into her knees and the crying commenced again. "I didn't mean to kill your friends…" she whispered, and Naraku sighed once more. They were certainly _not_ his friends.

"If their intent was to harm you, I would have killed them myself anyway," he quietly stated. He would do what was necessary to protect his little prize—_especially_ after what he'd just heard. So she'd inherited her mother's spiritual ability; this certainly meant that she would be an even more valuable weapon when she was of age.

Her head snapped up, clearly surprised by this information. "R-Really?" she whispered, and she instantly broke out into a smile.

_She misunderstands my intentions_, Naraku thought to himself, _though that is for the best._ He realized belatedly that it was _himself_ he was trying to convince—but it was no matter. He did not love her—but if he cared about her well-being for more than his original purposes, it didn't _really_ hurt, did it? Though he'd never admit out loud that the girl was growing on him, he supposed it didn't hurt to stop lying to himself. As long as he kept his promise to never love her—to never love _anyone_—then this was fine. Again, he felt the small but obvious pulsation of Onigumo's human heart, and he was almost sure it was beating in protest of this inner declaration. _You do not own me; you do not affect my decisions_, he thought to the heart, and it instantly quieted.

Mitsuko's shaking slowly stopped when Naraku gave a single nod of his head. "Thank you, Daddy," she murmured, oblivious to the slight wince Naraku gave when being called that. He was a great and powerful youkai, caring for no one by himself—and "Daddy" certainly didn't make him feel indestructible.

"I must leave now," was his only response as he stood up and turned from her. He could feel some monk trying to search him out, and he didn't want anyone discovering his hideout. "I will be gone for some time, so you will take care of yourself as you need to," he instructed; this was no unusual thing for the two. But when he felt small arms wrapping around his leg, he paused, glancing down at her.

"Don't leave me alone! I hate being by myself!" She sniffled, and though every thought in Naraku's head screamed that she should not be allowed—that she would be a distraction, that she would only slow him down—he lowered his head in resignation.

"You may come."

* * *

"_Stay_," Naraku ordered, setting Mitsuko in a circle of trees, and she nodded up at him with big, blue eyes. If she could purify things around her, she'd be safe here—and he was quite certain that his powerful aura had been enough to stave off any offending youkai in _this_ forest, anyway. "I will return shortly," he promised, and in an instant his piercing red gaze was not only no longer on her, but gone completely.

_Where did he go_? she wondered to herself, but only plopped down on the soft grass—this wasn't so bad. It was so seldom that she got to leave the dark cave, that the beauty of daylight was often lost on her, so she decided to drink it all in. Small fingers curled around the stem of a flower and she plucked it, and then another, and another—and smiled to herself as she began making a flower crown.

So lost in her creativity, Mitsuko didn't notice when the leaves started rustling, making the presence of another known—and she didn't jump up until a voice spoke out to her.

"Young one, you should not be out here alone," he murmured comfortingly, and blue eyes looked up in fear to lock with purple ones. "Where are your parents?"

She stood up, backing up slowly—until she hit a tree, unable to back up further. "M-My Daddy is coming back for me soon," she said softly. This was her first interaction with anyone that wasn't her father—save for the demons that had just that day tried to kill her. It was no wonder she was a little wary of the monk's presence. "Who are you?" she asked, trying to sound brave—but the quiver in her voice gave her away.

Smiling softly, he inclined his head, placing his hand over his heart. "My name is Miatsu. I'm merely a servant of Buddha, in search of a danger to our kind—to protect people."

She blinked up at him, her head tilting to the side a bit. She'd never heard of Buddha, or anything of a sort—but after a moment, she smiled up at him. "My Daddy protects people too!" And in her eyes, it was the truth—he protected _her_, and any time she asked him what he had been doing, he answered that he'd been protecting people. How was _she _to know he'd been lying?

"I'm Mitsuko!" she beamed brightly, instantly warming up to the man. His aura was gentle, and kind—though she didn't know that it was his aura she was sensing. She just knew this man was _good_, deep down in her heart, and someone _good_ couldn't harm her, right?

He blinked slowly, offering her another kind smile. "Is your father a monk as well?" Upon her shaking her head, he nodded.

"He went into the village!" she offered, not seeing any reason to not trust the man. "He told me to stay _right_ here."

"Well, this spot could potentially be dangerous. Perhaps I should take you to him? I was on the way to that village myself." Eyes brightened at this, and it was obvious to him that she had been near terrified to stay alone, the flowers potentially just a distraction to ease her mind.

"Thank you!" She knew she was disobeying her father's orders by leaving, but he'd been gone much longer than she suspected—and she didn't think he'd be upset with her. She bent down and picked up her flower crown, smiling and placing it in the monk's outstretched hand.

Miatsu blinked in surprise; he'd been expecting her to give _her_ hand, not the flowers—but he smiled and tucked the token in his kimono anyway. "Why thank _you_," he offered, then held his hand out again, this time grabbing hers gently so that she would get the message. _Has she never held her father's hand before?_ When he saw her puzzled look at their touching hands, he had to feel that she truly _hadn't_.

* * *

When Miatsu and Mitsuko reached the village, Miatsu was hit with an overwhelmingly powerful dark aura—and he instantly recognized it. He'd been chasing Naraku for some time now, but why did he have to appear _now_? Now, when he had been accompanying a child to her father? He couldn't risk the girl's endangerment—he'd never forgive himself if she were to be harmed under his care. But as he began to lead her away, Naraku appeared—right in front of them.

"Mitsuko!" he nearly barked, and Miatsu realized this was the first time he'd ever heard Naraku raise his voice—he was generally so calm and uncaring, collected and malicious. "I told you to stay where you were," he said with a frown, dark red eyes glaring at her. She shrunk away from Miatsu, and obeyed his wordless command to come to him.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she whispered, clinging to his leg apologetically. Naraku pointed to a large hut—one of the wealthiest in the village, no doubt—and Mitsuko obediently went to it.

Miatsu blanched. _That_ little girl—was _Naraku's_ offspring? The sweet, innocent, _human_ girl who he'd just been escorting? Impossible! Had she been a trap? No—that couldn't be it. There was no deception in her aura—nothing but innocence. But one thing was for sure—he needed to kill Naraku for good this time, to give the girl a fighting chance.

"Surprised, monk?" Naraku said with a smirk, his usual demeanor in place now that Mitsuko was out of sight. "We will finish this now," he said with a grin before purple miasma clouded his features and he disappeared. Miatsu didn't have to guess where the youkai had gone.

_Mitsuko…I will free you._ With this thought in mind, he ran to the house Mitsuko had run to.

* * *

"Naraku?" Miatsu's voice was almost lost at the sight before him. Naraku had turned himself into a beautiful woman—the most beautiful he'd ever seen. But it was still _Naraku_. His shakujou jingled as he began to fight off the attacks, trying and failing to bring himself to harm the youkai.

It wasn't just that he had transformed into a woman—it was that he could see little Mitsuko peaking through the screen, horror on her face as she watched her father and the monk—who she had trusted—engaged in a battle. _She wasn't supposed to be watching_… He couldn't bring himself to deal any lethal blows now; he couldn't allow Mitsuko to _watch_ her father die. Why couldn't she have looked away?

A sudden pain seemingly piercing through his right hand brought him out of his thoughts, violet eyes widening at Naraku as he fell to his knees, left hand holding his right as if it would somehow take some of the pain away. He'd never felt anything more painful—or more ominous—in his entire existence. He knew nearly immediately that it was a curse. He bit his tongue to keep from screaming out in pain, but he _did_ let out a shout when he noticed the fabric from his clothing starting to move towards his hand, a wind-like sucking coming from the hand. Panicked, he could think of nothing else to do but grab the prayer beads from around his neck and wrap it around the cursed hand. He was pleased to see that the sucking stopped—but _not_ pleased that the pain had not subsided. When he looked up at Naraku again, he was no longer female, his disguise having served its purpose.

"Your entire family will be cursed with this _kazaana_—born with it—and die with it. Not only will they die with it, but they will die _from_ it." An ominous chuckle passed through Naraku's lips as he—and the small, open-mouthed girl still gaping from behind the screen—started to fade. "I trust you'll figure out the rest for yourself, monk."

* * *

The next think Mitsuko remembered, she was home—and more than confused. "Daddy…why did you do that…that _thing_ to him?"

"He was the enemy," he calmly stated, gently prying her from her current position: nearly wrapped around his leg out of fear. "Not only has he been trying to kill me, but he captured _you_."

"But…but he said he was taking me to you in the village!"

"He was obviously lying; had I not intervened he would have kidnapped you." Mitsuko couldn't understand why it was so hard to believe her father's words—she didn't want to doubt him, but she didn't want him to be right, either. She felt like he _couldn't_ be right.

"But…why did you curse his whole family?" Tears were streaming down her face now. "Why not just him, then?"

"He needed to learn his lesson, Mitsuko. I tire of questioning—it is time for bed."

Mitsuko lowered her head, but nodded, walking over to the corner where her small cot was located. She climbed on top wordlessly, tears still falling down her face. _Why does this all feel so…wrong?_

* * *

Miatsu clenched his hand into a fist as he began his journey back to his own village. He couldn't help but curse himself for allowing that to happen. Because he was afraid of Mitsuko watching her father's death—she was probably in more danger, and she was still _trapped_. She might not realize it yet, but it was the plain truth—he could see it in her demeanor and in her words, the hidden meanings behind them not even clear to _her_ yet.

Sighing, he reached inside his kimono and pulled out the small crown of flowers she had bestowed upon him, and his eyes widened slightly when he felt the pain in his hand lesson at the touch. He gasped, eyes widening at the sudden realization: the flowers had been somehow drenched with healing. _She is…miko? I wonder…does she yet realize her power?_ If she could transfer healing powers to small flowers, without even realizing it—_Probably wishing in her heart that the flowers would not die from her picking them_—then her power must be great indeed.

_Maybe she is not as trapped as I believed her to be. Mitsuko—please be free one day._

**End Note:** Ah, this was a fun chapter to write. Miatsu is very rarely used in stories (that I've seen), so I was happy to give him a part in this chapter! Anyway, please review-I love them!


	5. We All Fall Down

**A/N:** Chapter 4-on schedule! :) I do hope you enjoy it-only a few more chapters until things get more interesting, and until Sesshoumaru (and, briefly, Inuyasha) make an appearance!

It might be a good idea to remind you all that this is happening before Kagome comes to the feudal era with the Shikon No Tama. Of course, with Miroku's grandfather still being alive, you all might not need reminding. ;)

**Word Count:** 1,231

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**We All Fall Down**

Silence stretched through the night, peace settling over Mitsuko as she looked over the valley below her. She was stretched across a branch, stomach facing down with her legs hanging over, one on each side. She gave a small, calm smile as her elbows propped up her head, not allowing her eyelids to drop as she stared ahead.

A soft hiss alerted her to her visitor, and Mitsuko nearly jumped before she looked. On the branch beside her was a black snake with yellow eyes, body looping around the branch to hold on. When the yellow eyes met hers, she only smiled towards it.

"It's almost here, Makoto-san!"

The snake youkai only shook its head before turning its eyes towards the sky once more. He wasn't blessed with the powers of speech, and Mitsuko quickly discovered that—and yet, somehow, he'd taken a liking to her. He always seemed to find her whenever she left the cave, and they had an understanding between one another—an unspoken bond.

Just as the sun began to peak over the mountain, golden light touching everything in sight, Mitsuko gasped. "_There_ it is!" Mitsuko's voice was light with awe. "Isn't it wonderful, Makoto-san?"

Makoto's low his brought Mitsuko out of her reverie, and wide, blue eyes turned to him. "He's on his way back?" she asked in a low whisper, but she already knew the answer. "_Crap_, I'm not supposed to leave the cave when he's not home!" Her voice was panicked—really, she was hardly ever allowed to leave even when Naraku _was_ home, and she certainly didn't want to risk punishment.

She scrambled up, nearly tripping over her too-long kimono as she began to carefully make her way down the tree. It wasn't enough though, because she fell—luckily, Makoto's lightning reflexes were enough that he could reach down, part of the length of his body wrapping around her leg to keep her from face-planting into the ground. _Silly girl_, he thought, gently releasing her once she had gotten her bearings.

She flashed him a bright smile as she pulled her hair into a low ponytail. "Thanks, Makoto-san! You're the best! I'll see you sometime!" She turned heel and ran straight to the cave, though she was still slightly out of breath when Naraku crossed the threshold.

He raised a brow at his daughter, resisting the urge to sigh. Did she really think he didn't know about her little escapades? "Mitsuko," he said, dark eyes resting on her panting form. "Must you test my patience?"

She looked down, a blush creeping onto her features as she was unable to look him in the eyes. "Sorry, Father," she murmured.

He turned from her, his long hair whipping around behind him. He didn't even turn to look at her as he went to his study. "You will not be punished _this_ time—but it would do well for you to remember your age. You're nearly twelve years old, you cannot keep acting like a child. Disobedience is _not_ something I tolerate, as you already know."

His dark eyes slanted towards her at this, though she was not looking at him to see the effect. She was still looking at the ground—and remembering Naraku's _last_ punishment. Her hand automatically went to her wrist, rubbing it. The burns were gone, but the memories would last forever. The only good thing that was coming from Naraku's punishments was that she was starting to become immune to the miasma.

"I'm sorry I'm such a bad daughter," she whispered. She couldn't explain her desire to get out, to roam free; she didn't _want_ to be disobedient, but she found his strict rules hard to follow. She felt so restricted, so _trapped_—Naraku was rarely home, and when he was, she was almost always getting punished. It was like he was trying to control her—but then again, if she wasn't such a bad daughter, he wouldn't have to. That's how it was in her mind—_she_ was the problem, not _him_.

Naraku looked at her this time, letting a sigh pass through his lips. He felt a twinge of guilt as she said this, but not enough to make his habits towards her change. He turned, crossing the length of the room to the quivering girl. "You will learn," he instructed, rather than correcting her. "I think some time in your room will certainly teach you a lesson, though."

Mitsuko winced; hadn't he just said she wouldn't be punished? She knew better to argue, though. "How long this time?"

He led her to the room, pulling the key from its place on the wall. Mitsuko winced at the sound of the key jingling, though she said nothing. "I will return in a week; I only came to gather my things." He eyed the cupboard that was knocked over on the floor. "The cupboard is stocked well enough for that, is it not?"

She nodded. "May I have a candle this time?"

Naraku wordlessly answered her by reaching in his kimono and pulling out a short stub. "Until next week," he said, shutting the door and locking it with only the smallest hint of guilt. He wouldn't let it get to him, though—he would _not_ feel guilty for doing what was necessary.

* * *

"How is she doing?" Miatsu gave a gentle smile down to Makoto, and at a slow shake of the youkai's head, Miatsu's shoulders dropped considerably.

"Continue keeping an eye on her, please, Makoto-sama. She has the ability to free herself—I just _know_ it."

Makoto only let his head bob up and down before curling around Miatsu's leg, seemingly giving a sigh. He wished he could actually communicate better with Miatsu; he'd love nothing more than to tell him that he had locked Mitsuko up. But there was nothing he could do, and there was no way he could tell Miatsu. It was the unfortunate truth.

* * *

Mitsuko sighed as she curled on her futon, pulling her ratty blanket up around her. Her room had no window—and had no way for her to get out. It was her punishment, and she understood that she deserved it because she had disobeyed Naraku.

But…was this how it always was, between parents and their children? Were punishments _this_ harsh—absolutely no contact for a week? Not that she had contact when she obeyed him, anyway; he was gone most of the time and the only creatures around her was his horde of demons. And honestly, they really creeped her out.

When she allowed her thoughts to wander, they turned as they often did to the man she had met when she was five—Miatsu, if her memory served her correctly. A sadness she couldn't express came over her as she remembered the pain in his eyes and his demeanor when Naraku had given him the wind tunnel. Just as Mitsuko supposedly deserved _this_ punishment, Naraku said Miatsu deserved _that_ one.

It just didn't seem right.

She had faith in her father most of the time, but when she was alone, the doubts resurfaced. _This cannot be how life is supposed to be!_ Her eyes drooped slowly; there wasn't much else for her to do other than sleep during her punishment.

When she drifted to sleep, she dreamt of malicious auras, gentle monks, and a life where she didn't feel trapped.

* * *

**End Note:** Reviews are much appreciated! I crave feedback. :)


	6. Giving In

**A/N:** I am severely late - I am aware. After I missed the Sunday deadline, I figured I'd just wait until Wednesday to post again. I'm fairly swamped right now, so don't expect another update until next Wednesday, again-though, I will try. :)

**Word Count:** 928

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**Giving In**

Finally, she heard the click of the lock turning. Her back was against the door, and she jumped up and turned so that she was eye-to-eye with Naraku as soon as the door swung open.

"Forget something?" she asked, her blue eyes narrowing as they locked with his, and her foot began tapping slightly. "You said you'd be back in a week…" she murmured, clear annoyance in her voice, but no disdain.

Naraku wouldn't admit how glad he felt about that; whenever he left, everyone he encountered despised him. They spoke to him with distain, disgust, like he was no better than the dirt beneath their feet. It was refreshing to have someone who didn't think of him that way—no matter how badly he treated her. Idly, Naraku wondered if Mitsuko was even capable of hating someone. It would certainly be easier if she was—but, if that particular inability kept her from hating _him_, he guessed he wouldn't complain too much.

"I was unavoidably delayed," he murmured, though there was no apology in his tone. He never apologized, even if he truly _was_ sorry. Mitsuko never knew. She was sixteen years old now—and he still treated her as he did when she was a child. And she had no idea that anyone else endured life any differently.

A sigh passed her lips as she walked past him. "I'm going outside. The cupboard in my room ran out three days ago; I'd like to find some of my _own_ food." She glanced back, appearing as if she wouldn't take no for an answer—but Naraku knew she would obey if he told her no. She never disobeyed him to his face—only when he turned his back. He hadn't decided if this was a good thing or not. "I think you at least owe me that," she murmured sulkily under her breath. Her annoyance had been festering for a week, and she'd been planning exactly what she was going to say to him the next time she saw him. She'd only said about half of it, most of her anger dissolving as soon as she saw him—but it appeared to be enough.

"Do as you wish."

He hadn't needed to tell her twice—as soon as he looked back towards her, she was already gone.

* * *

"Makoto-san!" Mitsuko's whisper was enough for him to hear, and in hardly no time at all, the snake youkai was by her side, curling around her legs. "I've missed you," she murmured, plopping down but carefully avoiding sitting on the youkai. "Father said he was unavoidably delayed—but he shouldn't have left me all alone in the first place." She let out a sigh, and Makoto slithered up and settled on her shoulder as she spoke.

"I'm old enough to stop being locked up—doesn't he realize that? I only disobey because he's so strict…and he's always gone, leaving me with those terrible demons." She lowered her head, shaking it sadly.

She loved Naraku—he was her father, how could she not?—but the way he treated her was definitely affecting her mood. Makoto could tell, too, and he was doing the only thing he really could: providing her with company.

After a few hours of just sitting, Mitsuko sighed. "I guess I should be heading back," she murmured, slightly surprised when Makoto didn't move from her shoulder as soon as she said that. "Makoto-san?"

With a look, she understood his intent. "You're staying with me?" Her eyes widened. "But…why?" He only shook his head, and she sighed. Well, she certainly wasn't going to complain about the company. "If Father tries to harm you…_run_. I've never brought anyone home before, and there's no telling how he'll react."

* * *

"No."

"But Daddy…"

Naraku shot Mitsuko a glare; she _knew_ he hated being called that. Or…did she really think that it softened him up in the least? His glare caused her to look down, and he noticed how the snake youkai wrapped protectively around her waist. Did that _thing_ really think she needed protecting from _him_?

"I will not have a strange youkai staying here."

"_What_?" This time, it was Mitsuko who glared, and the glare almost impressed even Naraku. The snake slithered up from her waist to her shoulders, hugging them gently—but putting no pressure there. "You mean you'll keep _thousands_ of youkai that have no problem killing me, attacking me, trying to _absorb_ me, but you won't let a snake youkai that has done _nothing_ but protect me stay? What mixed up world are you living in? It's like you enjoy making me miserable!"

Naraku let out a longsuffering sigh. With most people, he _did_ enjoy making them miserable—but, he realized he couldn't make the same assessment about Mitsuko. He found some strange urge in the depths of his heart—no, Onigumo's heart—to please the girl, to make sure she was at least _some_what happy.

Cold eyes lowered to the snake youkai, studying him. He could easily dispatch of the youkai if he needed to—and he made a mental note that he would be looking for excuses that wouldn't only justify his actions in _his_ eyes, but also Mitsuko's.

"Fine. He may stay—for now."

Just as quickly as it had appeared, her glare vanished, and her entire face bubbled into a smile. Bright, blue eyes fell on the snake at her shoulders, and she blessed them both with a dazzling smile. "Come on, Makoto-san! I'll show you my room!"

_Hn,_ Naraku couldn't help but thinking, _Makoto…interesting._

**End Note:** 'Makoto' means truth or sincerity in Japanese. I chose his name specifically for that meaning-so, I wanted to get that out there somehow. :) I thought Naraku would find it intersting, and so-BAM.


	7. Unleashed

**A/N:** Well, I'm posting it after midnight, but I'm still counting it as Wednesday... ::sighs:: It's been a difficult week. Murders, seizures, medical emergencies, sickness...it's a miracle I even squeezed this in there. Nevertheless...enjoy!

**Word Count:** 900

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**Unleashed**

"Mitsuko, come." Naraku's voice almost made Mitsuko jump. She'd been practicing her penmanship on some scrap parchment—writing letters to people who'd never get them. She was even writing letters to people she didn't even _know_, jumbled thoughts mixed with pretty words that, for some reason, saddened her to read. She hadn't actually mentioned any names, partly because she knew at least _one_ Naraku would recognize—to Miatsu-sama—and partly because most of the people she was addressing she didn't even _know_ their names. She'd met very few people in her lifetime, but she hoped to meet many in the years to come. She'd written letters to future friends, enemies, travelers…and even quite a few to the man she would fall in love with.

There _had_ to be a man she'd fall in love with eventually—right?

A soft sigh passed through parted lips as she stood, pushing the parchment away from her. Makoto blinked from his position on the table, and then promptly curled up over them. Naraku had never tried to peak at her letters _before_—and Makoto was going to keep it from happening _now_, at least until he could deliver the letter that she thought would never leave the cave to Miatsu.

"What is it?" Her voice had become rather soothing over the years; the shrill voice of a child had been replaced with a calm, quiet and even ladylike voice. Her temper had evened out, and she'd become much more obedient since he had done her the favor of allowing Makoto to stay with them—and, since it was her eighteenth birthday, he felt like she was ready.

"I have a birthday present for you," he murmured, and her head tilted to the side in surprise. She hadn't even known it was her birthday; it certainly wasn't something they'd ever _previously_ celebrated. But like a good girl, she said nothing, but only inclined her head gently, waiting for his continuation. "It is not a physical gift, though it is the highest gift I can ever give." Of course, mentioning that he had _taken_ it in the first place wasn't going to make him sound as generous as he was trying to, so he left that part out. He was pleased to see that curiosity shown through her eyes.

"Thank you," she murmured, not even knowing what it was yet.

He hummed an acceptance and reached out his hand. "Reach out your hand, Mitsuko."

She did as she was told, and couldn't help the gasp that came when he pricked her finger, catching a single drop of blood on what looked like a normal piece of parchment. She didn't protest, though—she was too curious to see what was coming.

Blue eyes widened when she saw the parchment erupt into flames. "…Father?" she questioned, but he only looked at her expectantly.

And suddenly, she was on her knees. She couldn't explain the feeling that was coming over her. Her body felt like it was on fire, and yet it felt _good_. Every part of her body tingled, and she felt _powerful_. Spiritual energy rose up within her, fighting the transformation, and she realized that her own spiritual energy was _hurting_ her body. She took a deep breath, pushing the purity back down within, and that's when she realized the already-apparent changes.

She could hear…_everything_. Well, not _really_ everything, but it sure felt like it. The youkai all the way in the back of the cave, wings of a bird flapping just outside, wind whistling, soft footsteps of what seemed to be a small animal. And she could smell nearly everything, too. Her nose wrinkled in distaste; as much as she didn't like to admit it, she didn't like the smell coming from Naraku. She was too new at this to realize that this smell was a mixture of hatred and malice, which was something that was as permanent as the scar on his back. Everything had a different scent—and living things had _more_ than one scent. Each feeling came with its own set of scents, scents that she did not know yet but would soon figure out. She was so astounded by all these new things that she didn't even realize the _physical_ differences.

Mitsuko now had sharp claws in place of the blunted nails she'd grown up with. Small but sharp fangs had appeared in her mouth, and though her hair and eyes remained the same, the one black stripe on each cheek had reappeared during being given her abilities back. She felt stronger than she ever had before, and finally, she turned her eyes towards Naraku.

She didn't have to ask what had happened; she already knew. But she did have _one_ question for him.

"What kind am I?" It came out in a whisper, but this one whispered word sounded louder to her than any time she'd ever yelled.

Naraku smirked, inclining his head. "You are a mutt," he answered, walking over to her. "You're an inu-hanyou, but I have no doubt you have spider in you _somewhere._"

She completely missed Makoto's more-than-surprised looks, though she could _smell_ his surprise. And since this same scent was emanating off of her—she could tell what it was. She turned to acknowledge him, but found that he'd already slithered off, lightning-fast. He'd taken the letter she'd written to Miatsu, but she never even noticed.

* * *

**End Note:** Here in a couple chapters, the action will start, I promise! Reviews keep me going!


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